


Don't Be Late

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Van Helsing (2004)
Genre: F/M, Movie based, Van Helsing - Freeform, buckynat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21630277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A buckynat interpretation of the 2004 movie Van Helsing.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Don't Be Late

The scratch from the werewolf would only slow things down if they made it a big deal. James didn't want to make a big deal out of it. Because there was a cure. In Dracula's castle, which they were in now. They had to find it. But the primary goal here was to stop Dracula from bringing back the dead. It was just the three of them. Natasha, Steve, and him.

They talked about the plan.

Steve looked nervous.

Natasha was unsure, her hand on her sheathed sword.

James clenched his jaw, feeling like his veins were pumping battery acid, and growled. Fists clenched. He could feel the pull of the moon. He tried to calm his breathing.

"Buck, you fine?"

"No," his voice alarmingly hoarse, scaring Steve. "Just, just go already."

Steve still stood there. "We'll meet at the--"

"At the lab. Where Dracula is." He let out a grunt and held his middle, feeling as if his ribcage were contorting.

Steve was reluctant, moving backwards, concern apparent all over his body language, but then he eventually turned and ran off.

"Follow him, Natasha," James was able to grunt out.

"No." She stepped forward as her expression softened. "Hey." Her hand reached out to his face, feeling the sharp edges of his beard.

His fists easily unclenched themselves and he leaned his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.

She let out a sigh. "I don't like this plan."

"Neither do I." He stared into her eyes. "But we have to do it, we gotta split up. We don't have much time."

"What if you turn when I come back?" She asked, voice shaky, eyes averting away from his intense stare.

"Well, you gotta come in time then." He tried for a smile and lifted her chin up.

She rose her chin up higher, to appear confident. She said sternly like a soldier, "Steve and I get the cure. And you kill Dracula."

"Sounds about right."

She stared at him, silent for a moment. Waiting. When he didn't make the first move, she simply responded, "Yes. I'll meet with you then." She turned to leave now, but he pulled her back.

"Don't get killed," he told her, holding her firmly to him.

Her eyes were teary yet so fierce. "You must understand, James. This is about saving my family. If I should die then Dracula must have perished already." She turned to retreat, but he stopped her yet again, pulling her closer and telling her, "But don't be late."

"I won't."

He stared at her, eyes intent on her face. "I'll take you to the beach as soon as we got off this wretched place."

She smiled. The only brightness in this darkness. "Are you bribing me to come out of this alive?"

"Maybe."

She chuckled. "I'll..." her eyes were on his lips, "see you, then." She turned to leave but he seized her and pulled her back to him.

"Don't be late, Natasha."

Their faces were so close.

"James, I said I wo--"

He closed the last space between them and kissed her. Without hesitance she deepened the kiss and held him closer, all the unspoken words between them delivered passionately into the kiss. She didn't know she'd been secretly asking for this.

He pulled away and told her. "You have to move. Now. Go. Go."

She twisted and ran off.

He watched her speed up to Steve down the aisle below. Steve wasn't much of a fast runner.

He let out a scream of agony and fell to his knees, the twisting and breaking of his bones and ribcage disturbingly audible. The clouds slowly moving away from the moon. He watched with wide eyes as his nails turned black and into sharp skinny claws.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Natasha and Steve went through fighting Dracula's last bride for the cure which was stored as an injection. It took a considerable amount of time, but they made it out alive.

She retrieved the red antidote injection and they walked out the dungeon room together.

"A litte late, are we?" She quipped.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The ebony werewolf had just ripped off the head from Draculas's shoulders. Growling animalistically as the headless body collasped to the ground and the head was thrown, rolling until it touched Natasha's boot. She gasped. "James." She held the antidote injection needle almost like a knife, and wasn't hesitant on running towards the werewolf.

"In the name of Romanov," she whispered to herself and the creature sharply turned to her presence. It roared madly and grabbed her roughly before jumping off a distance, then smashed her against a best post. Hovering over her, it's suffocating grip loosened from her body. It growled and sharply turned to another presence from behind. Threatening.

"Bucky! It's me! It's, it's..." Steve trailed off, hands mid-air, and his eyes went to Natasha as the beast stepped aside. He stopped breathing for a moment. His heart seized.

She wasn't blinking.

His jaw slacked and he looked back at it. "She's dead."

The werewolf's pupils started dilating and eyes began tearing as it shuddered. Steve's eyes averted to it's abdomen side, where the needle was struck. The beast took out the injection, and got unsteady. It turned back to the woman on the bed post, it's ears lowering. It whimpered, and staggered closer to her, and took her into it's arms. Holding her close, and howled.

Slowly, as Steve watched, the werewolf transitioned back to the humam form. Pants ruined, shirtless, sweating. Eyes leaking with tears. Bucky. Steve gulped.

James looked at her and his face twisted in anguish. Her body hanging limply over his arm. He pressed his face to her lush curls and sobbed. His heart pricked with pain and tragedy. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

In a beautiful field. Wind soft and humming. His long hair whipping along it's direction. He stared at her laying on the hay built inside the tall block of wood surrounding it. She was adorned in a crimson and black gown. Lips red as blood. Curls silky and lush. Beautiful. Always. Even in death. He could imagine the feel of her soft skin, yet so cold.

Steve was reading the Bible in Latin, in golden robes, standing across from her.

Steve's eyes laid on her over the book, and he closed it when he was done.

An honourable funeral, just as she wanted.

They lit the hay on fire with their torches. And watched it spread.

Flames getting bigger.

James couldn't stop the tears streaming down. He felt Steve's hand patting on his shoulder. He let out a shaky breath.

A whisper along the wind caught his attention. A soft, familiar whisper. He blinked when the smoke neared him, a shape carved into the smoke. A tiny feature of her. Natasha.

He gasped and turned, following the smoke of her image leading across the ocean.

The sea.

She'd never been to the sea. And he promised he'd take her.

The smoke of her dissipated along the clouds, and so he watched the sky. Walking forward, reddish teary eyes wide. Up there, he saw her. He saw shapes of figures. A young man next to her, kissing her forehead, another older man to her left hugging her. A woman behind her, pecking her head. These soft images played in the sky, clouds and wind shaping them.

Her family.

She reunited with them.

She was happy, they were affectionate, welcoming her. Then they leave, and her face was a portrait in the sky. A beautiful glowing tear lined over her cheek, as she was smiling softly at him. She had the most breathtaking smile.

_Thank you,_ he heard in the air.

And she was gone.

He remained standing there.

The devastation lifted off his chest, and a small smile slowly etched on his face. The pain was still there, but all he could do now was be glad for her. He looked down. Well damn. He fell hard for a princess, only to lose her. He let out a sad laugh and looked up the sky.

May she rest in peace with her family, and always be remembered.  
  



End file.
